Insomnia
by LimitedEternity
Summary: "You think you can help me?" "I think I can try." "Why should I let you?" "Because you have nothing to lose." "Why do you want to? You realize you'd miss this charming visage?" "Because I took a vow ferret, don't read into it too much."
1. You Again

EDIT: 11/14/17 Wow I know, bit early for edits yeah? But some things with the previous version of this had been bothering me. While nothing super major has changed, like the actual events, the relationship between Hermione and her mentor has been tweaked.

* * *

Hermione stood in front of her boss's desk in complete disarray, hair askew and chest heaving with emotion. She knew what she had to say wasn't going to go over well; but she never thought it would be this bad.

"With all due respect, Mam, you simply must be kidding, I can't take that man as a patient." The wrinkled face of the woman before her puckered even more as she pursed her lips, eyes narrowing to dark slits.

"With all due respect Healer Granger," returned Head Healer Ojibe in clipped tones "I am not. You know as well as I that there is no humor in finding the best care possible for those who seek treatment at St Mungo's." She pressed her hands together and glowered at her young protégé from across the desk, disapproval pouring from every pore.

As Hermione started back at her mentor it was obvious on her face that she was doubting the statement. This had to be a joke. A prank. Something. Because she just couldn't believe Ojibe had even considered telling her to work with that _man child_ , much less actually going through with it.

"I… he… Healer Ojibe, he's the most crass, inconsiderate, inconsolably miserable man I have ever met! How can you expect me to subject myself to that abuse?"

"Healer Granger!" Ojibe said sharply "I cannot believe what I am hearing. Do you really mean to say that you, against the very oath you took as a healer of this institution, would skirt your responsibilities, deny a man his health, his life even, _because you find him disagreeable_?" Ojibe shot out of her chair with alarming speed stand with her, slamming her hands on the desk between them. "Truly you seek to hand him off like you don't care, without even trying to see if you can help? Have I taught you no better?" Hermione's temper simply flared in response.

"You make it sound as though I am the last person here who can treat him. Why can't you find someone else?"

The other woman seemed to be at a loss for words.

"Because a proper healer treats _every_ patient like they're the only ones who can, until they are sent away, or can do nothing more!"

Being looked at in such a way almost made her she could turn back time and stop herself from ever starting this conversation. It wasn't the anger in Ojibe's voice, or the set of her mouth that did it.

It was the disappointment in her eyes, like this had all been a test, one Hermione had failed. It hurt to think that Healer Ojibe could ever doubt her as a healer. She turned her head away, a sour, resentful feeling settling deep in her stomach. When Hermione had started her day, she had a long list of things she thought she would be doing; defending her integrity as a healer, was not one of them.

* * *

Hermione had been up to her metaphoric elbows in work when there was an authoritative knock at the door. She glanced at the door before glumly before staring back at her desk with a sigh. See this was why things had piled up at all; the second she gets any kind of rhythm going there was always an interruption. There was another knock, impatient and short, and Hermione frowned.

"One moment please!" After a moment's hesitation she quickly shoved aside her papers, catching a few before they took to the air off the other side of her desk before answering the door, a hand tucking her hair behind her ear. Turning the handle, she fought to keep the faint annoyance she felt from her face.

"Hello, yes- Healer Ojibe!" The small woman looked back, dark lips parting over even white teeth in an easy smile. Hermione returned it and stood aside to let her in with a gesture of welcome. It should have been obvious who it was; there was only one person in the entirety of St. Mungo's that would dare knock on her door like that.

"Healer Granger." the older woman returned the greeting with a diplomatic dip of her head, the folds of her head wrap seeming to undulate under the dappled sunlight that bathed the room. She breezed past and folded gracefully into the chair in front of Hermione's desk.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Hermione asked lightly, picking her way back towards her seat, toeing a few stray papers to the side along the way. Healer Ojibe would never drop by in the middle of the day for an idle chat.

"I have a job for you," she replied, "a difficult one."

"Oh?"

This raised a brow, but overall, she wasn't surprised; it was hardly the first time someone had come to her with a tricky issue. She still loved solving a good problem now as much as ever, and she was hardly one to turn down a challenge. Hermione joined her mentor in sitting down, lacing her fingers on top of the dark wood of the desk.

"Absolutely, what can I help with? Is someone stuck in their research? A peer reviewing challenge?"

"Actually," Ojibe smoothly interjected "It's a rather difficult patient case concerning a young man. I want to you work it, not only as a researcher, but as a traditional healer as well." This pulled up the other eyebrow. Now this was unusual, it had been quite some time since she last served as a healer. It wasn't because she thought it beneath her, it was that she thought she could be of better service in a lab, and some of the breakthroughs her team has made led her to believe that was true.

"Ah well, it certainly has been a while for me…" she started off and Healer Ojibe leaned forward, with a particular look, the one that said there was a right and a wrong thing to say here. Hermione felt a slight pressure in response. "It would be remiss, to stay out of practice too long." she offered weakly, easily reading the mood of the room. Ojibe leaned back, satisfied. Hermione glanced at her papers longingly; it seems they would have to wait until another day. Again.

"Oh absolutely." Ojibe agreed, tucking her hands into her sleeves with a pleased shake. "The patient is actually here for another checkup and administering of potions; do you have time to meet him and get a handle on the case?"

This time Hermione was quicker on the uptake to recognize a command that was a request only in phrasing. She glanced about her paper covered office once more with a slight grimace before acquiescing.

"How could I say no?" There was a hint of amusement to Ojibe's counterpace as she rose from her seat gracefully, her bracelets quietly clacking against each other as she beckoned to her protégé with smooth easy movements. Turning on her heel, the door swung open for her with a single gesture. Hermione faltered in confusion at her actions; that was it? No explanation, no scrolls, no anything? When Ojibe said she would be meeting the patient and getting a handle on things, she had assumed they would be two separate actions.

Grasping around in her pocket for some bobby pins, Hermione rose up and quickly exited the room, throwing a glance over her shoulder just in time to watch the door gently swing shut behind her. When she turned around, starting down the hallway, her mentor was waiting for her, pulling ivory robes more tightly to her.

"Shall we?" she asked before continuing, Hermione following closely behind her. The long walk from her office to the patient wards was spent in an amicable silence and she let her mind wander, her hands idly pilling her hair into a messy bun as she thought through the possibilities. Perhaps the patient infected with something rare? An odd poison? A mysterious curse perhaps, one they wanted her to work until they got a proper cursebreaker?

But when she took in the even steps of Ojibe's leisurely pace she mentally crossed out anything immediately life threatening, at least for now, and that only served to make her curiosity that much stronger.

Finally, the hall opened up into the high arched ceilings of the main lobby, and Hermione couldn't help the warm feeling spreading through her as she stepped into the room. After the war St. Mungo's had seen a massive influx of donations, and every last galleon, sickle, and kunt of it had been put to good use during the reconstruction.

Everything was polished to perfection, their equipment cutting edge, with generous access funding to fuel their research. Now more than ever they were ready to serve, and more than happy to do it. The hall was alive with activity, notes or every shape gently arching overhead, sailing between golden baubles of light that gave the entire area a soft glow. Healers bustled about, the head desk orchestrating it all with words and wands. Ojibe and Hermione easily wove through the organized chaos, each picking up on the rhythm and flow of the room, pausing to return the pleasantries called out to them with a wave or a smile. Pulling her from her thoughts Healer Ojibe called back.

"Here we are." Coming to a stop in front of the door, she gave Hermione a few more crumbs of information. "The young man here has been seeing us for about a year now, but little progress has been made." A note of irritation crept into her voice as she continued to speak. "I do want to mention that the patient is rather… troublesome. Please see me in my office when you are done and we can further discuss where to go from here."

Hermione nodded, confusion at the lack of information concerning her new case rearing up once more as she watched her walk away, robes fluttering behind her. Tapping her chin she took a step towards the door, eyeing the rich cherry wood critically as though if she looked hard enough, it would give her a hint regarding what this was all about. As expected, it was disappointingly blank, the customary glowing of the room number to indicate a patient was staying here the only feature besides the handle. Tweaking her hair one last time, she laid a hand on the wood and knocked. When a muffled "Come in" came from the other side, she entered with a serene tilt to her lips and bit of guilt.

This poor man was suffering, his case challenging enough to require a researcher's eye for the unusual. But while the healer in her was aching at the thought of this man's suffering… the academic was intrigued. Hermione took a moment to scrutinize the man sitting on the bed, leaning back on his hands, facing away from her in the darkened room as she quietly shut the door.

He was tall and lean, with long aristocratic hands as her gaze followed the lines of his body from head to finger tips. In the artificial twilight of the room, fine pale hair seemed to be almost glowering sliver, and it brushed messily over the neck of his button up shirt, a dark coat laid on the bed beside him. His face was hidden, but something about him seemed familiar, and her stomach began to curl.

Why did she feel like she had seen him before? And even if she had, why did the sight of him make her tense? Tipping her chin up with shoulders pulled back, she tried her best to shake away the ill feelings. She was sure it was simply nerves regarding Ojibe's warnings on his temperament making themselves known.

"Good afternoon sir, I'm Healer Granger and I have been assigned to your rather unique case. I look forward to doing whatever I can to alleviate your condition."

Suddenly the man's back stiffened, and when she glanced down his hands were clenched in the sheets. Biting back a frown she stared at the back of his head in confusion. After a tense moment the stranger relaxed and lazily turned his head over his shoulder, full lips and a straight nose coming into view before finally, stormy gray eyes as his hair fell away from his face. She sucked her breath in with a sharp gasp, unable to keep the horror and dismay from her expression.

"I'm sorry," Draco Malfoy remarked, mocking insincerity dripping from every word "I thought I was here for some help, not more bloody nightmares."

* * *

A/N: So hello all! This is my first Harry Potter story with my favorite paring that I have ever written! It started with the lines from my summary as a passing thought, then I just started writing more and more and a story bloomed from there. I am very excited to get this going, I have been this inspired in quite some time.


	2. Plan Z

EDIT: 11/14/17 Significant edits! I was really dissatisfied with this chapter but got stuck and frustrated wanting to post something up. I won't do that again. If you read the previous chapter 2, you need to reread this one!

* * *

"Malfoy!" Hermione growled and he only delicately snorted.

"Granger," he greeted dryly, his eyes wandering from the snarl of her mouth to her hastily gathered bun, balanced just so on her head in one smooth sweep "Looking feral, as always." Her next words tumbled out of her mouth, slickened with anger and shock before she could give it a second thought.

"What are you doing here? You-" she cut herself off abruptly when her brain caught up with her mouth, flushing as he looked at her with dark amusement.

"For the atmosphere and fine dining." he turned on the bed to face her fully, squinting at the light of the hall spilling from under the doorway "Honestly woman if you're the best they have for the job with questions like that, I ought to see about getting on that whole heir thing; with this level of care I'll be out by this time next year."

As much as she couldn't stand the man with his flippant remarks, her anger smoldered as she remembered herself. This was him, this was her patient. And once she looked past the usual Malfoy swagger and snark it was clear that he was unwell. Her eyes trailed down his face, drawn and pale, even for him, with dark circles shadowing his eyes, like bruises under the thin skin. She was here to help him, not engage in petty arguments. But unfortunately, old habits die hard.

"You look awful." She spat, looking to pay him back for that feral comment. They glared at each other for a moment before Hermione found her head. Only he could make her behave so childishly. "Look I'm sorry-"

"Like hell you are-" she continued on as though he hadn't said a word.

"And while I'd hardly call you civil," she said moodily "I will call you my patient, and as your healer it's my duty to help you, not bicker with you. I was too easily side tracked." Gathering the pieces of her fractured patience she carefully pulled on a mask of professional coolness and reached into her pockets for a quill and a pad of paper. When she looked back up he was staring at her bemused.

"Your patient?" he asked doubtfully. "And here I was hoping you'd stumbled into the wrong room." For a moment hope bloomed within her and Draco raised his eyebrows questioningly, as though he could sense it. But just as quickly amber eyes dulled as she tightened her grip on her quill. Seeing as she was delivered by hand to this room, the chances of that were disappointingly negligible. Fighting the urge to inform him of how strongly she wished for the same, she instead gave the insufferable man a courteous reply.

"Yes, my patient. Now Mr. Malfoy," she went on pulling a chair to his bedside. She perched on the edge of it, as though she could hardly stand to touch it. "I would normally go about getting to know you a bit; however, we clearly know one another, and that would be a waste of time." He thoughtfully tapped his lower lip, a skeptical air setting in around him.

"Do we? I don't know Granger, I might be a whole new man since you last saw me." Her face darkened for a moment before the practiced veneer slipped back over it.

"From your comments earlier the basics are still there and anything new can be learned along the way. And it's Healer Granger." She reminded him primly "Now," She sat up straighter and primed her quill "I am here to take over your treatment from your previous healer. Healer Ojibe has not told me anything of what you are suffering from, she thought it would be best to hear it from you."

She hadn't thought of it earlier, but what if it was an STD? Maybe it was a particularly virulent strain of a never before seen magical gonorrhea. Malfoy just stared at her before sighing, running a hand through silken strands. He seemed to be weighing if he would actually talk to her or not.

"She might have been right. I… I can't," Pee without burning? Swallow without my throat hurting? He turned his head away from her childishly, giving her the same anonymous view she had upon first coming in the room. "You know what, never mind, I don't want you as my bloody healer." Aha! He didn't want to talk about it.

Now she was sure it was magical gonorrhea.

Normally she would be horrified at her thoughts, but somehow when it was Malfoy, it didn't count.

"Ma- Mr. Malfoy," she said impatiently "I cannot help you if you don't tell me what's wrong." Typical. He had to be difficult, even when helping her meant helping himself. When he started shaking his head her voice grew even tighter "I can't say this any more plainly; I'm here to help. But you need to talk to me before I can."

"If I had known they'd send you to nag me I would have asked that nitwit Sterling to stick around, at least he knew to keep his head down and his mouth shut-"

"Healer Sterling is very talented and dedicated!" she barked in his defense, forcefully crossing her arms "Though if he had to work with you it's little wonder that he didn't want to talk-"

"Honestly Granger," he sneered, rotating back around to face her "I don't care what you think of the latest man you've had between those unshaved legs."

"Enough!" her voice was shrill with anger, how dare he speak to her like that? "My private life is _not_ up for discussion here Malfoy! I'm trying to meet you halfway, and I'm not asking for much, but you won't give me a centimeter!"

"I thought we already established you were getting that from Sterling." He chuckled, eyes filled with mirth at her expense as she gasped in a silent fury. _The nerve._ "Now give me my potions and piss off to whatever miserable grunt work you were doing before you and that nest balanced on your head ruined my afternoon."

Fire licked her veins as she stared furiously into her lap, nailing digging into skin as she fought to maintain control. She didn't know what was wrong with her; she had treated actual Death Eaters without getting so riled up, much less the pitiful tag along in front of her that was just begging to be hexed.

"I'm not here to play games with you" she warned through gritted teeth "And you are trying my patience. I don't know what the other healers let you get away with, but that stops here." Her head snapped up and her bun jolted back with the motion as she seethed at him. "Now."

Draco made a show of checking under his nails one by one, letting her simmer and rage in silence. Once he ran out of fingers, large hands flipped towards the collar of shirt before he paused, looking back at her as though he had just noticed her presence.

"You're still here?" he asked with feigned surprise "I thought I kindly asked you to, what was the phrase," his brow furrowed as he continued the charade "ah yes, I believe the exact words were 'Piss off', if I'm not mistaken."

"You know what," she snapped "I'm done. You don't want me as your healer? Fine." She shot up from his bedside and angrily crammed her quill and notepad back into her pocket. She didn't even know why she had tried; from the second he turned around and showed that pinched face she should have known this was a lost cause. "The feeling's mutual, I don't want you as a patient." Draco just laughed, a bitter edge darkening the sound.

"Is that supposed to make me feel bad?" he simpered, pressing a hand to his chest "You don't want me? Really Granger, I'm so very hurt. I am surprised though," she thought there was a flash of disappointment and his face looked so much older and tired for a moment. But when she blinked startled, all she saw was him sneering, looking down his nose at her. "you're normally more stubborn than this." Hand on the door Hermione paused scowling at the wood before looking back over her shoulder sourly.

"So sorry that I failed to live up to expectations." His lips just pressed thin before curling into a twisted grin. His eyes shimmered in the dim light like molten metal and she found herself caught in his gaze. Their eyes locked until finally, he looked away with a dismissive huff and she let go of a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. She couldn't stand this man. He glanced back at her once more with an oddly hesitant look in his eye before he furrowed his brow.

"Hardly an issue." he turned his back to her once more with rounded hunched shoulders and waved her away, flicking his wrist like he was dismissing a servant. "You just saved me the trouble of an argument. It's not as though you would have been any help anyways." With one last venomous glare she wrenched open the door and stormed out, smartly snapping it shut behind her. A healer whose name she couldn't recall happened to be passing by, and upon sensing the murderous air about her he glanced at the room number curiously.

"Ah," he remarked, swiping curly chestnut hair out of his eyes "you got… him. That explains the look you've got." He said knowingly. Hermione frowned in response.

"Hang on, you know about that?"

"Do I know about it?" he threw his hands up in frustration "The whole hospital knows about room 107, I'm in pediatrics and he'll never be my problem and I know about him. Anyone that had him won't shut up!" The exasperated tone turned curious as he peered at her more closely "And you did too, right? Know I mean." Hermione flushed a bit under his attention. Her research didn't leave much time for idle gossip in the staff lounge and she was a bit embarrassed to admit the finer points of socializing were still something she was… working out.

"Of course, of course," she waved off "I just thought they might have been uh, exaggerating." She scoffed before turning to move on. "Now it seems they might have been underselling it a bit."

"I'll say," he laughed "Do you know that someone took a swing at him? Like some sorta great bumbling muggle, said something about his mum and he was off." Shaking his head, he bid her farewell and Hermione continued determined to, for the first time in her career, tell her superior no, I can't. I won't.

This is how she found herself staring at the small woman, feeling like a naughty child being scolded. It was bollocks, all of it. Anger at the thought of him, at how quickly she was doubted, sent lighting down her spine. Not much of it, but enough to put a bit of strength into her backbone, a bit more life into her voice.

"Head Healer Ojibe I mean no disrespect," she said warningly "But to accuse me of failing in my oath as a healer is something I don't take lightly. You never had to teach me better because I always knew better."

"It is not something I say lightly. But when you come in here, telling me this nonsense, what else am I to think?" Her words were like knives, each syllable stabbing deep. It wounded her, to think that it took so little to make her mentor doubt her. Hermione stalked closer to the desk, her hands curling and opening in frustration.

"Maybe it should make you ask why." She said heatedly, scrubbing her face in fustration. There was a pregnant pause before the other woman crossed her arms, her face inscrutable.

"So tell me then."

Hermione thought hard then. Thought about telling her how he's always treated everyone like the dirt he finds under his shoes was worth more, and the people she loved have suffered for it. Of how he revels in spiting her at every turn, and finds joy in making her feel small and less than in ways no one else had. But ultimately it came down to one reason.

"Because you taught me that there is a relationship between healer and patient, one of give and take." She said repeating Ojibe's words to her early on in her apprenticeship, her gaze briefly wandering as recalled them. "And I will not work for someone that would take and take from me until there was nothing left. Find someone else."

The tension between them was pulled to the limit as their eyes clashed, deep mahogany with fiery amber as Healer Ojibe regarded her silently. Her blood was running wild with anger, but underneath it all the hurt was there, icy and slow. Ojibe had her respect and she liked to think she had hers in return. But to be so quickly doubted by someone she thought was in her corner… she didn't know what was worse. That this could cause the loss of that respect… or the fact that maybe she never had it at all.

Silence went on until Ojibe looked away with a gusty sigh, falling heavily into her chair. Silently, she commanded Hermione to do the same and cut the tension in one movement. She warily compiled, the well-worn leather creaking as it sank in to accept her weight. With a pursed her mouth, Ojibe steepled her hands in front of her face before her eyes fluttered shut.

"Hermione, do you know why I chose you." She said softly. Startled at the sudden change in subject Hermione failed to mind her tone.

"No," she was frustrated and just wanted this conversation to end. "I don't even know what's wrong with him, you've told me nothing, and he's done the same."

"Yes well," dark eyes lazily opened as she made a concession "That was a mistake. I should have told you." Hermione leaned forward, irritated.

"And why didn't you? And why me?"

"Why not? Simple. You younger healers have a habit of being afraid to disagree with anyone that came before you in the more difficult cases. That," she said with a shake of her head, "is unimportant. However, the reason I chose you concerns your research." Hermione looked at her confused and Ojibe watched her perceptively in return.

"Not your work. Your private research that you sink all your spare time into, those dalliances you make into muggle medicine."

Hermione made a lot of… dalliances. She would have to be more specific.

"Such as?" Ojibe flattened her hands to the table, her wedding ring tapping on the hard surface.

"Mental health. I've read your notes." She said plainly, and Hermione wasn't surprised. Any research done with St. Mungo's materials or equipment was to be recorded and available to all other healers. They were to cooperate in their discoveries, not compete. "What I found there was… fascinating. It's a field untouched by wizarding medicine, almost all of it was new." For the first time her face moved, a thoughtful expression sliding into place. "Even to me." Hermione bit her cheek, realization beginning to dawn on her.

"And you believe this…" she hesitated to call it knowledge on her part; in comparison to her other studies, her foray into mental health had been as wide as the ocean and shallow as a puddle, but if she truly was the only one looking into it, it seemed there was little else to call it. "knowledge I possess could be instrumental in treating him?"

"Absolutely," Ojibe assured her, "Though I am loath to give you any preconceptions to get hung up on, I believe that while Mr. Malfoy's condition is manifesting physically, the root of it is almost certainly mental." Curiosity finally got the better of her and Hermione almost interrupted, her words following so closely behind they almost touched.

"And what's that condition?"

"Insomnia. If it can even be called that at this point." She said simply.

"Insomnia?" she whispered back. That was the exotic mind-numbing issue they called her in for, after it had stymied healer after healer? But after a moment's thought it all began to make sense.

But she had to be sure. "Does he sleep at all?"

"Not on his own," was the grave response, her voice delicate. "As of right now the sleeping potions are keeping him somewhat stable. But we both know in time, they will grow less effective."

Ojibe spoke calmly, and Hermione searched her face, looking for a way out of this.

"We've tried everything. You, you are the only thing we have left to offer." Hermione would be lying if she said that in past, she had never wished that she had some leverage over Malfoy. A little bit of power to fight his. But not like this.

"I can't force you to take him on as a patient." Wrinkled hands began to wring themselves and Hermione looked away to watch the reflection from her ring bounce about the room. "But I wish to be clear on this. He may die despite any efforts you decide to give him. But he will surely perish without them."

Healer Ojibe then eyed her pensively, but without judgement, giving her time to think in silence. Hermione fought the sinking in her gut as she took those words in. For a moment she wanted to just wash her hands of him, to tell Ojibe that she couldn't even stand to try.

But then image of his pale and haggard face forced its way to the front of her mind as she closed her eyes. How could she refuse this? It was one thing to say she would pass him along to someone else when she thought he could seek effective treatment elsewhere. But now? To say no would be essentially burying him herself. Feelings of helplessness began to crawl up the back of her neck. She wasn't ready for this, to have a life in one hand and a textbook in the other, desperately trying to keep ahead. But when she thought back to Draco, sick and helpless, lashing out with no one to turn to…

She had to suppose he wasn't feeling too prepared for all of this either.

"I'll do it." She said tiredly, opening her eyes. "I'm not ready. But I'll try." Ojibe hummed before dipping her head in response.

"It's all I can ask of you. And I'll speak to Mr. Malfoy. About his behavior."

Nodding, she simply stood up to leave without another word. Her head hurt, and her mind was filled with images of silvery blond hair and cold eyes. Never mind the illness; they'd both be lucky if she didn't hex him to death and put him out of both of their misery, healer's oath or not. But just before she reached the door, Ojibe called out to her.

"Healer Granger"

Pausing she turned around and gazed back expectantly.

"For what it's worth…" her nostrils flared as she exhaled through them harshly "you have never given me anything but your best." It wasn't an apology, but Hermione knew this was the closest she would get to one.

"I know.

And a non-apology would receive a non-answer. While the olive branch was appreciated in its own way, after what she said- she wasn't sure it would be enough. Giving a half smile that didn't reach her eyes, Hermione turned her back and left the room lost in thought.

Perhaps Ron had been on to something, when he told her she put too much stock into authority figures.

* * *

A/N: I struggled a bit with this because it was difficult to figure out how much I wanted to be shared in this chapter about his condition, as well as how hostile I wanted them to be. But we did get our first glimpse of their interactions! Clearly there is a lot of work to be done here, but they're going to get there… right?


	3. Truce

Great. Bloody great, he thought that things just could not get any worse, but then life had to pop in and remind him how foolish it was to think that way. He squinted into the afternoon light pouring into the St. Mungo's waiting area with a scowl. Honestly, he should have known better than to tempt fate; the last time he let that dangerous thought flit across his mind, his father brought the Dark Lord himself to shack up in their house. Or rather he brought himself. Either way nothing good came of it. Draco shifted his weight to the other foot and nearly growled in frustration, his gaze bouncing restlessly about the artificially cheerful room, touching on the other haggard individuals within distastefully as they sniffled and hacked every so often.

Yes, things could always be worse. Because no, it wasn't enough that he was a pariah, his mother disgraced, his father… well, that wasn't even worth discussing. He was still young, rich, and beautiful, as the Malfoys have been for centuries, but just about everything else had gone to shite, and that included his health. The day he was informed that his lack of sleep was not just an ordinary string of late nights brought on by a bit of stress, his stomach just about dropped out from underneath him. Hadn't he had enough?

Apparently life thought not, and from the looks of things he was starting to wonder if this would be something he could worm his way out of. Snapping his head to the side, he glowered at a cowering junior healer that had been teetering about him like a scared fawn for the last five minutes, constantly passing by him with short nervous steps.

"Do you have something you need to tell me?" he asked waspishly. The young man grew even paler under a mop of sandy blond hair and Draco couldn't help but frown at his fear. He was often cranky and yes, he was a bit mean, but not enough to warrant the frightened anxious response he always got when his voice was anything but silky and pleasant. He wasn't violent. He wasn't cruel.

He wasn't the kind of man his father turned into.

"H-Healer Granger told me to a-ask you to see her in her- in her office." He stammered out.

"Well," Draco replied with a glare, "tell that ill-mannered healer she's coming to me, I don't want to stay here another minute." The nerve of that woman. Draco didn't think it was possible, but it seemed the last bit of color drained from the other man's face; he nearly made Draco look tanned.

"She-she said you would say that." He looked up and over his head as he spoke, anywhere but Draco's face. "Healer G-Granger said come to room 119 or-or she won't see you." He finally plucked up the courage to look in Draco's eyes and the nerve left him just as quickly as his eyes jumped to something of incredible interest just over Draco's right ear.

"It's in the ad-ad-administrative wing, out of the main door a-and-and to your left!" he pointed at a grand set of doors with wide eyes. Looking relieved to finally have given his message, he turned on his heel and hustled away, his steps falling so quickly that he was on the edge of bursting into a jog. Draco watched him go with that same frown still tugging the corners of his mouth.

"Honestly," he muttered "I've half a mind to go home…" he trailed off as he slid a hand to his coat lapel, adjusting it with a quick tug here and there. As much fun as spiting Granger would be, Healer Ojibe had made her point quite clearly last night; he was stuck between a hard-arse and a hard place and there wasn't much to be done about it. She hadn't said that in so many words exactly, but it didn't take a genius to read between the lines. Comply and maybe die, or don't and certainly die. Simple as that.

Well, at least they were choices he was familiar with.

With a gusty sigh, he pushed off the wall, lazily strolling through the main doors, ignoring the curious glances of the rest of the people in the room. The lobby was as spacious and warm as ever, with plenty of natural light to assault his tired and strained eyes as he quickly veered left, making a bee line straight for where her office should be. The numbers rapidly passed by as Draco's mind began to wander a bit.

It was a little surreal to see Granger again. The last time they had laid eyes on each other they had been standing in the ruins of Hogwarts. Their cheeks were ashen, and her face was twisted with emotions that he couldn't decipher as they glanced at each other, and honestly hadn't cared to. There had been a long list of things to worry about, and the latest thing to have her knickers in a bunch was near the bottom, only just above anything related to Potty and Weasel. It felt like it was yesterday and a lifetime away all at once. He hadn't been kidding when he said that he was a new man, even if their last encounter hadn't been the best example of that. Things were different, he, was different, regardless of what she or anyone else had to say. And as he slowed to a stop in front of her door, hovering before the nondescript door, he wondered if she had changed much either. With a deep breath he laid his hand on the handle, traded exhaustion for a confident tilt of the chin, and after a twist then push, he was in.

Keen eyes roamed the small room, skipping from here to there to touch on the many details within. The warm cherry floors, the deep maroon walls, typical, the potted plant on the large paper covered desk that had once been something green he had to imagine… and the startled witch behind it.

"So is this hour convenient for you, or payback for our little spat?"

"Malfoy!" she hastily tried to move some papers around to organize it before she realized it was a lost cause, defeatedly shoving her hands into her lap with a surly glare.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" she grumbled as he breezed into the room, swiftly yanking the door shut.

"I've head of a lot of things I don't do." He replied coming to stand before her. "And besides," he took an exaggerated look around the messy room before turning back to her with an arched brow "weren't you supposed to be expecting me?" Her face flushed pink for a moment but she quickly regained her balance, slapping one hand her desk as she stood up to lean over it, a finger pointing at him accusingly.

"I don't care if I knew when you were going to be here to the second, you still need to knock, that's just common courtesy!"

His narrowed eyes back made that pink flush go red and something in him tensed; he had forgotten how much fun it was, to push someone that wasn't too scared or busy kissing arse to push back.

"Tsk tsk Granger it's just your office. What, nervous someone is going to walk in and see something they shouldn't?" he asked slyly.

"Stop it!" she snapped "If we're going to make this work you need to be civil! To treat me with the respect I deserve as your healer! This has to be a two way street, I won't let you walk all over me, what happened last time won't happen again!" His eyes were sharp and challenging as they narrowed back at her. Respect? Even after their fall from grace a Malfoy respects whoever the hell he wants and demands it from the rest.

"Oh?" he said mockingly "The Gryffindor princess wants respect?" He moved closer, invading her space so casually, forcing her to back away as he advanced. Cursing under her breath Hermione ran into her chair and toppled into it as it hit the back of her knees. She glanced behind her, long curls loose today and bouncing about, as though she was surprised to see it there. When she turned back Draco was even closer than before, his breath fanning across her face when he continued to lean in, replacing where her hands been on the desk with his own. "And what if I see fit to deny it?" he murmured, far too intimately. Flustered and angry she impulsively lashed out, pulling herself up to sit tall with bared and gnashing teeth.

"Then I don't work with you, why don't you get that I'm being kind?" she whispered back with a smoothness he suspected she didn't feel, her eyes flashing fiercely "Without you, my life will go on." Pushing him back with a hand on his shoulder her gaze raked over his face, trained eyes pausing on every flaw his illness had brought about and he could only imagine what she saw; the faint lines, the dark shadows beneath his bloodshot eyes, and the translucency of his skin, with veins visible just under the surface. "Can you say the same?" As quick as it came her sudden bravado was gone, and Granger released him with a started gasp

"Why does this keep happening," she whispered to herself almost too quietly to hear. Draco glanced down to see her hands clenched into small fists, white knuckled and shaking with tension. His brow furrowed and the first prickles of...something made themselves known in the back of his mind. Had it always been so easy to get under her skin? She muttered something for a moment and slowly her hands uncurled. After a deep breath she looked back to Draco but not at him, eyes a dark toffee in the shadows of her hair as she stared intensely past him. No one seemed to want to look at him today, you'd think he were a Weasley.

"That was inexcusably unprofessional, I-" she cut off as he dipped over to catch her eye with an appraising sneer.

"How Slytherin of you. My my my Granger, I see you've changed." Scowling at the insinuation she snatched her gaze away before warily looking back.

"And you still haven't." The air was tense, and Draco mulled over where to go from here. She was so easy to shake, almost too easy; it really wasn't much fun when the anger came so effortlessly. Even their last meeting hadn't really been satisfying the way he had expected, once the initial shock of seeing her subsided. One thing was for certain, he hadn't been kidding when he said she'd changed; this impulsive snappy woman was a far cry from the tightly controlled Granger he'd known, letting loose only to deliver cutting jabs with pin point precision.

'Well,' he thought ruefully, a hand ghosting over his chin reflexively as he recalled that right hook, 'sometimes.' Still though he had to pick his battles wisely; if she changed too much Granger might actually make good on those threats, and then he'd really be trouble. Finally, Malfoy broke the tension and raised his hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay Granger fine. I can be civil, but don't hold your breath on the respect." when she puffed up angrily, and opened her mouth he cut her off effortlessly "Oh so you want me to fake it Healer Granger? I didn't think you were that kind of woman, and I'm not sure I'm that kind of man, but I'll see what I can do." He watched in amusement as she slammed back into her chair in a huff, her hair flying in disarray. "So our next session," he smirked, innuendo and pleasure at her discomfort almost seeming to curl the corners of it as he straightened to his full height once more. "My place or yours?"

"Cut the sexual harassment too while we're at it, it's not funny!" she snarled, a light dusting of pink across her face again

"No idea what you mean," he said innocently "I'm simply trying to see where this thing will take place. I presume that's what you wanted to talk about?" Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"It is, but first Malfoy I think you owe me something?" A swift kick in the arse to get things moving so he could get home?

"And what might that be?" The look he got back nearly froze him.

"Don't play games," she said her voice tight with warning, "The way you spoke to me yesterday was inexcusable." When he opened his mouth to respond she wasn't exactly sugar and spice, she was one step ahead and blocked him off. "I wasn't in line either but you provoked me and I apologized for being unprofessional. If this is to move forward, I would like you to do the same." Draco simply started at her speechless; most people had the tact to hint for a sorry, to demand it outright... well it took some nerve and he shouldn't be surprised. She'd already shown she had it in spades. Normally he'd tell someone in this situation not on their life and he means what he says, but even he could admit he might have been... hitting below the proverbial belt so to speak. Barely.

"I apologize for the untoward comments I made concerning you, your colleagues, and your level of skill." he said stiffly, formally. But after a moment's thought he couldn't help but tack on, "However I maintain what I said about your hair." Granger's dark brows almost disappeared into her hair; clearly she hadn't expected get him to admit anything so easily before the last comment caught up to her, bringing them back to earth with a scowl. She barely brushed her hand across her hair before she caught herself and lowered it.

"You almost had it until the end."

"Yes well," he said cheerfully, "I haven't changed _that_ much. So shook hands, made friends and all that; now, where will you be treating me?" She didn't seem to want to leave things at that, but with a small hiss of air and flexing of her hands she went along with the abrupt change in subject.

"Here, obviously." She looked around her cozy nest of an office and then seemed to think better of it with a self-conscious tweak of the many papers on her desk. "Er, but not actually here, we can find another room in St. Mungo's." Draco was hardly aware of the word before it left his mouth.

"No." Here it was Hermione's turn to arch a brow.

"No?"

"I'm not going to be dragged in here every week," he said offhandedly, "and I'm considering your place, don't worry about that. I want to be treated in my home."

* * *

Hermione looked back at him startled for a moment before her gaze darkened. His home? There was no way she was going to let that happen. She stubbornly crossed her arms and snuggled into the chair, hoping her pose excluded the same easy confidence of her most difficult patient.

"I can't treat you there." She lifted a hand to loosely wave it about, gesturing to every corner of the room. "All of my materials and equipment are here." Lips pressed into a thin line Malfoy pushed a hand through his hair before slowly sinking into the chair opposite her. It seemed her chair was finally deemed acceptable to sit in.

"Then you can bring them with you."

"You expect me to haul everything back and forth? Absolutely not."

"I'll duplicate everything and keep a set of them myself."

"Duplicate?" She said incredulously, "Some of these things cost so much I was hardly able to justify a single set to the hospital, and you want to double them out of convince? They're far too expensive." He threw his hands in the air and sighed, exasperated.

"Granger everything in my home is expensive; your books, potions and overpriced muggle doodads will fit right in." Hermione pursed her lips searching for another reasonable objection to any sort of house calls. She had made a number of home visits in the past, her resistance had nothing to do with that. It was strictly… something more personal. He looked at her expectantly and out of options she decided honesty was the best policy; after all she would be requiring a lot of honesty from him in the next few months; it couldn't hurt to lead by example. Right? If he were more considerate, it would be obvious, he was there when it happened.

"Look…" her words crumbled to dust and she had to take a moment to pull her thoughts together "I don't…" she weakly trailed off and looked up at him with a small frown. This whole honesty thing was a little harder than she expected. They were off to a predictably rocky start and the idea of having to cooperate with him was still a difficult one to swallow.

"Come on Granger, what's your next excuse, distance?" He asked flippantly, picking a spot of lint from his shoulder.

"I…"

"Out with it already, so I can shoot it down and actually do something productive with this meeting."

"I- I can't go back into Malfoy Manor." She said quietly, unfolding her arms so she could clasp her hands on top of her desk, her head angled down and away. There, she said it. The words carved into her arm, as fresh and scared as the very day they finally healed over seemed to burn at the mere mention of that place, and she fought her throat growing tight at the very idea of going back. Never again.

She braced herself for the scathing blistering comments, finding her weak points and then pushing them without mercy and she felt her shoulders tense. He hardly ever passed up the chance for cruelty when it presented itself, and Hermione was going to have to learn how to stop letting it affect her if they were going to get anywhere. This was as good a place to start as any.

But when the silence stretched on she tilted her head at him, only to find Malfoy seemed to be gathering some difficult thoughts of his own. Wherever his mind was, it wasn't in the moment with her. After a second of this, just before the pause tipped into uncomfortable silence, he snapped back into focus with a minute shake of his head.

"Who said anything about Malfoy Manor?" he scoffed, pulling at the collar of his jacket. "You think I still live with my mother? Granger I have money, lots of it." he sniffed. "I thought we just went over that." Hermione was startled to hear this and she failed to keep the surprise out of her voice.

"You don't live there? I thought you had to."

"Had to?" he responded crossly "I don't have to do anything but be filthy rich, devastatingly handsome, and if you do _your_ job," he jabbed a finger in her direction "healthy with a glow of life and youth about me until I die of old age." He finished with a flourish about his face. "So, you're treating me at my flat." She faltered for a second, a small childish part of her wanting to hold out against his demands. No one ordered her around like this; okay a handful could, but they were the ones paying her.

'Though in a manner of speaking,' she thought, ever the one for technicalities 'Malfoy is in fact paying me.' A triumphant smirk was starting to creep onto his face when she finally thought of something to say.

"I'm not your on-call nurse." She said propping a chin up in her hand.

"Sorry, do healers not make house calls now?" he shot back, leaning into his chair to rest his ankle on his knee, unknowingly echoing the subject of her earlier thoughts.

"This environment is more conducive to treatment"

"A while sterile building full of sickness and 50 thread count bedsheets?" he huffed "Bullocks."

"It's too far!" she blurted out without thinking, clapping her hand over her mouth with an embarrassed gasp. Malfoy just stared at her before throwing his head back with a huff of what could almost be called laughter, silvery blond hair flying away from his face.

"Granger now I just know you're stalling! I hadn't seriously thought you would say that. You don't know where I live," he paused to shake his head. "And what are you, a bloody muggle?" he asked archly "I don't have time to deal with this, just agree already, unless you'd rather I darken your doorstep then?" Hermione blanched at the thought of him lounging all over her furniture. She'd never get the smell of smarmy git out of the house.

"Well," she shifted in her seat a bit "I suppose the rooms here really are a bit uncomfortable at times."

"You don't say?"

"They're not that bad," she shot back defensively. "Anyways when are we to meet then? I would suggest the afternoons, I believe it would be the least disruptive to what's left of your sleeping patterns." He paused for a minute thoughtfully before he nodded in agreement.

"That's acceptable. I am free Sundays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays." Hermione dug into her desk for her schedule and scanned it before giving a low sigh.

"Looks like we'll be seeing each other for Sunday brunch then." The reluctance thick in her voice. As loathe as she was to give him her Sundays, her schedule through the week was simply too unpredictable to accommodate him.

"Why was I afraid you would say that." He groused, "How does 1:00 pm sound?" and that perked Hermione right back up. She tapped her papers against the desk a few times while Malfoy pursed his lips. He didn't seem happy to be sharing his Sundays either and well, this misery did love company.

"That is fine by me. Since you so kindly pointed out that I have no idea where you live, would you mind fixing that?" Malfoy pinched his face at her and Hermione laid her papers down with raised brows. "You know, my mum always told me if you make too many faces it'll get stuck that way."

"Muggle superstitions don't interest me." he said, waving the subject away "I've simply realised I'll have to show you the first time personally. It's unplottable and well, a bit tough to find, by design."

"Paranoid?" she wondered aloud.

"Ever so tactful. Prepared," he shot back, "As far as some folks are concerned, Azkaban is missing an inmate and the rest still want to rub elbows with one of the last Malfoys that could get them anywhere."

Hermione's eyebrows knit together as she nodded her understanding. She didn't want to pity him and she was sure he didn't want it, but she did empathise. It was a little overwhelming at times being one third of the so called 'Golden Trio', Legends of Hogwarts, Heroes of the War, and that attention was mostly positive, with well-meaning intent. She couldn't imagine what kind of attention he must be getting, Malfoy Heir and the one-time host to Voldemort. Making a small to note to explore that as a potential contributor to his insomnia, Hermione smoothly brought the conversation back to making plans.

"Alright I understand. For the first meeting then, how about you pick me up from the hospital and I should be able to find my way from there." She offered up. He made a show of thinking it over and she just tapped her desk patiently until he finally nodded his agreement, to which she pasted on a strained smile as he stood to leave. "See? This wasn't so bad Malfoy maybe we can actually work together, if you can behave." He paused and looked back at her with a leer, opening his mouth before closing it with an audible snap after a moment's thought.

"Merlin Granger, I'm going to give this being cordial thing a good honest go, but don't push it." He shoved his hand though his hair and made for the door, carelessly tossing a wave over his shoulder. "I'll be here at 12:00 pm then Sunday." Hermione looked at his back confused for a moment.

"12:00? I thought we just agreed upon 1:00pm?"

"Yes well, since you were concerned about it being too far, I thought that implied you'd want to get there the muggle way, taking the tube perhaps?" With one last greasy tilt of the lips over his shoulder and a roll of his eyes he opened the door. "But I suppose we can keep 12:00 if you want to go about this like a proper witch." He pulled the door shut behind him and Hermione only started after him with a faint sense of embarrassment, but mostly exasperated.

It was incredible, his compulsive need to have the last word.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello hello, I am happy to present, Insomnia chapter 3! Like I said I wouldn't post a chapter until I was happy with it, so the chapters may not be speedy, but they WILL come. This is true for no other reason than I actually write my stories backwards, I always know how they end and it's just deciding what happens in the middle. Even in my worst case scenario of a series discontinuing, I was able to tell my readers how it ended. But rest assured! I have this one pretty well planned out. As always don't be afraid to leave a review! And as a note I'm American and trying my hand at some of the British spellings and words, so if I am butchering anything... please let me know, haha.


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